THE late Archbishop Trench, a man of singularly vague and dreamy habits, resigned the see of Dublin on account of advancing years, and settled in London. He once went back to pay a visit to his successor, Lord Plunket. Finding himself back again in his old palace, sitting at his old dinner-table, and gazing across it at his old wife, he lapsed in memory to the days when he was master of the house, and gently remarked to Mrs. Trench,
'I am afraid, my love, that we must put this cook down among our failures.'
From Russell, Collections, p. 289.